When the result is Success,
How can I be Wrong,
And How can there be Progress
If we Never change the Song?
How can Someone See
If their Eyes are Halfway shut,
And How can something Be
If it’s throat is Always Cut?
What makes Good,
And What makes Bad,
If Holy-men Killed, would
Criminals be Sad?
If there were no Bloodshed
Then Nations could Not Rise,
And How could Trees Grow
If Nothing ever Dies?
Lubricity and Deviance
Metastasize like a Cancer,
A Mournful,
Blissful Grievance
Smiling with
the Answer
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The gull’s calls
And Sea-grass whispers
The silvery gray
of early Light
Ocean glimmers
Each wave washes
And cleans the beaches
Mournful mirages
of yesterdays sorrow.
Morning’s Song, teach me
how to live and how to die
Wind, shake my bones cold
Sea, make me Alive
Saintly clouds overhead loom
clean me and fill me as I march
Into the Sea, Into the Sea
The Morning’s Song
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